


at the pleasure of the queen

by darthpumpkinspice



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Euron being a jerk, F/M, Femdom, Orgasm Denial, slightly AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 16:27:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12708651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darthpumpkinspice/pseuds/darthpumpkinspice
Summary: Euron Greyjoy is a prisoner of Daenerys, and she shows him why she's not just a queen, but a khaleesi.





	at the pleasure of the queen

“Is it true what they say? That instead of hair you’ve got scales growing down there?”

The words are singsong, teasing, and edged with just enough malice to make Daenerys’s spine stiffen. The prisoner cackles at her discomfort.

With a nod to the Dothraki standing silent guard beside them, Euron Greyjoy is abruptly backhanded in the face. He spits out blood and grins like a madman. He pauses only to lick his lips and then continues, unconcerned. “I’ve heard you birthed the dragons out of your own cunt. My friends in Essos say you’ve shown it to your entire army, that you’ve hypnotized a continent with your magic pussy.”

Here Daenerys lets out a laugh. “A man like you doesn’t have friends.”

He shrugs, as much as he can with the chains holding him on the flat slab of stone that likely served grimmer purposes back in its time. The dungeons of Dragonstone would’ve suited the ancient Targaryen dynasty well- they were barbaric rooms, still possessed of the stink of blood and gristle. The cell where they hold Euron Greyjoy is perhaps the least repellent of the lot.

“Leave us,” Daenerys commands to the guard, and with a lingering glower at the prisoner, the Dothraki stalks out of the cell, closing the door behind him.

Daenerys contemplates the self-styled King of the Iron Islands. Beneath her gaze he offers another mad grin, and tauntingly recounts the time he fucked a prostitute dressed as her. Daenerys supposes the off-putting demeanor is meant to unsettle her. Perhaps it would work on another woman- but she has journeyed with the barbarian hordes across the great grass sea- there is little he can say to shock her that she has not already heard, and seen. She has seen men maimed, children butchered, women raped. The tall tales of a pirate do not disturb her.

She stares down at him, and ignores the maniac, deceptive smile. Clever, cold blue eyes glint up at her, revealing a more intelligent and dangerous man than easily apparent.

“Have you no respect for a queen?” she asks coolly.

There is a flicker of prideful anger in his ice-blue eyes, and he spits out his next words, “To a king, a queen is just a well-dressed whore.” Then he smiles, and schools his tone back to one of good-humor. “And I have a queen, my beautiful lioness. Someday soon, I’ll fuck her on the corpse of your favorite dragon.”

There is power, Daenerys has found, in being underestimated. Even men who know of her reputation allow themselves to believe that she is just another woman, easily cowed into submission, meek at heart. But she is no mere woman, she is a dragon, she is Azor Ahai reborn into flesh. She has survived her brother, she has survived the Dothraki, she has survived everything the world has thrown at her. She has taken her pain, more then most men could ever bear, and with her iron will she has forged it into an instrument of conquest. And this pirate _dares_ think he can intimidate her with just his words? It’s laughable. And so Daenerys laughs at him. And for the first time, Euron Greyjoy looks disconcerted, and an expression that looks almost like fear crosses his face.

Daenerys steps even closer. “I know of your lioness queen,” she murmurs into his ear. “I know she’s beautiful and golden. But it’s gilded gold, and there’s rot underneath.

“I heard you wanted to marry me, before your relatives robbed you of that option. You made a mistake by not coming to me before the Iron Islands.”

Daenerys smirks at him, and in a smooth motion unclasps her dress and lets it fall to the floor. Underneath she is nude, and she lets Euron gaze at her body with abject hunger.

She crawls on top of him, and yanks playfully at the chains that hold him in place, daring him to try to touch her. She lets his eyes linger on her breasts, and moves her hands to squeeze them and play with her nipples. “You made the wrong choice, Euron,” she says, smiling coldly. She lowers her face down to hover over his lips, taunting him with the promise of a kiss.

“I could have made you my consort.” She reaches down to her pussy, and rubs at her clit, making a small show of moaning. Her voice becomes huskier as she brings herself closer to the edge, “you’re a king of nothing, Euron. Your kingdom is an island of salt and rocks and fools. But with _me_ , by my side, underneath my rule, you could’ve had the world.” Daenerys comes with a cry, and he watches her ravenously, straining against the chains as if trying to grab her. He snarls in frustration, and she feels his erection pressing against her ass.

Daenerys yanks down his pants and without preamble slides herself down his hard length, and begins to slowly rock against him. She continues to murmur to him, almost tauntingly. “And I’m not just a _queen,_ I’m a khaleesi. And I take what I desire.” She grinds down onto his cock, eliciting a gasp from him. “But I would treat my king very well. He would enjoy _every pleasure_ of my body, touch me and feel me however he pleased.”

Euron hisses something unintelligible, and Daenerys ignores him. She picks up a faster pace, fucking herself on his cock until she comes again. She continues to ride him until she sees his eyes drift closed, and from the tension in his body knows he is about to follow suit. Abruptly, she dismounts, denying him that pleasure.

He gapes at her, and snarls a low curse.

Daenerys smiles at him as she moves to slip back into her dress, stretching languorously. “But you are not a king, you are my prisoner. And your body is mine, not the other way around.”

His erection is beginning to soften, and he has regained some semblance of control. “For now,” he says. And then, less mocking, “my queen.”


End file.
